


Glorious Victories

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Chikara (Professional Wrestling), Professional Wrestling
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 08:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4257096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oleg the Usurper has never been cheered by crowds until now. He does not like that he was expected to let the Wrecking Crew win. Things are changing. Icarus agrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glorious Victories

 

 

 

It was strange. The fans they were cheering for Oleg, they chanted his name, they _sang_ it, and they wanted to touch his hand. That had never happened to Oleg before – he was a destroyer and plunderer of worlds, he had slain a dragon and now people cheered for him. Of course they should, he was a blooded warrior with many victories, but they had never reacted in such a way until now. Mr Bakabella had always said it only mattered that people paid to see Oleg wrestle. Oleg frowned, Mr Bakabella had said a lot of things and Oleg had always listened to him. Mr Bakabella had given him glorious victories until recently.

 

Oleg had always wanted victories but now he also wanted the fans to keep singing his name. It was a sound that rushed through Oleg’s veins; it pushed him harder than ever before, it made him feel stronger and swifter, as though he could lift the ring itself. He liked that feeling. It was glorious.

 

Mr Bakabella did not think so. UltraMantis Black said that if the fans helped Oleg to win, then he should listen to them and encourage them to cheer more. UltraMantis was Oleg’s captain for this Chikara tournament, its winners would achieve immortality. It sounded magnificent. UltraMantis spoke of many things that Oleg did not understand but he also spoke like a warrior, of glory and victory in battle and the spoils gained afterwards. Such things made Oleg happy. What else was there in life to strive for?

 

Oleg could also see the magic that clung to UltraMantis. This did not surprise him. UltraMantis wore a mask and carried a staff and moved like a Seer. Oleg had heard stories of what UltraMantis had done; he had raised armies and held onto great power. UltraMantis spoke of great spirits not known to Oleg and wielded such strange powers. He was not Icarus who had walked paths like sons of Odin - Baldr, Váli and Thor, for Icarus too had hefted a great hammer.

 

And there were warriors who spoke of other strange gods – Ophidian and Omasis worshipped gods that Oleg had never heard of. There was talk of great stone triangles and of Ophidian being sent back from the world of the dead. These people talked to Oleg differently now, like the crowds did. The Silver Ant had shaken Oleg’s hand after Oleg’s victory over him; others often wanted to ask him how he fared.

 

Icarus sat down beside Oleg. It was a good seat, beside a large river. Oleg liked looking out at the water; it was a good day. The sky was blue and the wind was good for sailing. Ashley Remington had a boat and had told Oleg that he could sail on it; Oleg had not sailed for many months. He had missed crossing the water.

 

He did not know why Icarus was there. Oleg was eating a trencher, meat with plenty of juices and onion piled onto good strong bread. Icarus was not eating; he looked as though he was thinking heavy clouded thoughts. Oleg nudged him, almost sending Icarus sprawling.

 

“You don’t eat?”

 

Icarus righted himself, “Not right now.”

 

“You will sail then?” Oleg bit off more of the trencher. “It is a good day and there are boats.”

 

Icarus’s expression moved and he looked as though he was going to laugh but didn’t. Oleg wanted to know what had caused that, the laugh and the stop.

 

“I'm not sailing either. I just wanted to ask, I don’t know if anyone has yet but things are...changing for you right now and I wanted you know, what you did for Mantis, it’s not gone unnoticed.”

 

Oleg chewed slowly. Things had been moving for him. The Wrecking Crew had not picked him for their immortality team and Mr Bakabella was angry with him, he’d wanted Oleg to help the Crew win their match against UltraMantis’ Arcane Hoard, he had held up Oleg’s contract, reminding him of words and promises. But Oleg was angry too, he had wanted victory, spoils and immortality and the crowds had been shouting for him, making his fists more powerful and his feet quicker. In his fight for victory and immortality, he had saved UltraMantis. He had not saved anybody who was not Wrecking Crew before. Things were changing.

 

Mr Bakabella and the Wrecking Crew were not speaking to Oleg anymore. Oleg had not fought without these friends, these allies, before. But he had found that he could fight beside UltraMantis Black and his Hoard. They were strong warriors and they wanted victory as much as Oleg did. It was beginning to not feel so strange anymore, fighting beside those who were not the Wrecking Crew.

 

Oleg had never let go of victory when it could be grasped. Why would he? He was a great warrior, a conqueror. He thirsted for triumph. Now, those he fought beside had changed but his thirst had not. Perhaps those he fought beside had changed forever. Mr Bakabella had ensured that Oleg was hurt, that he had not gained victory. Oleg did not like that.

 

He liked how the crowds had cheered for him to rise again, to keep trying for victory. They saw what he did – that victory should never be thrown away, it should always be sought. The crowds called for blood and triumph as Oleg did, they made him feel as though he had wildfire and wolves at his back, as though he could conquer even more worlds.

 

“I will have victory,” Oleg replied at last. “The Hoard will triumph.”

 

“Yeah, we all want victories.”

 

Icarus’ thoughts looked heavy once more. He did not carry the champion’s belt anymore, that belt was ultimate victory and plunder. Oleg wanted it, Hallowicked had it now. He and Icarus had fought hard over such gold. Icarus did not have the belt but he still led those who fought for Chikara. He had come to ask how Oleg fared, he had lifted the great hammer. It was said that he had ignored the crowds for many years until he hadn’t and then he had risen and triumphed. That had been a great victory; Oleg had fought with the Flood that day and still had known the weight and size of what Icarus had achieved. It had been a rare glorious victory; he should still feel the glory of it.

 

Oleg offered his trencher, Icarus shook his head and Oleg ate the rest with relish, onions crunching loudly between his teeth. Icarus’ gaze was firm as he spoke,

 

“There’s a place for you with the technicos. Bakabella won’t like it but the crowds want you to win and we could use the help, against Hallowicked and whoever Nazmaldun is.”

 

“I am Hoard, but Mr Bakabella has contract.”

 

Icarus smiled, “Well, we know a Legal Eagle who’ll probably help us out if the price is right.”

 

Oleg frowned, “Eagle?”

 

“We might be able to work out your contract, free you from Bakabella.”

 

Ah. “I would not be Wrecking Crew.”

 

“Right. And I get if you want to stay with them, you came in with them and-.”

 

Oleg waved a fist; Icarus leaned out of the way. “They want me not to gain victories.”

 

“Victories mean money, although Bakabella’s probably the only one winning there. There’s no way he hasn’t tied everything up so he gets the only real pay window.”

 

Oleg’s eyes bulged, “He takes _gold_ from Oleg?!”

 

Icarus looked surprised, “He takes ‘gold’ from everyone. It’s the only reason he’s in Chikara.”

 

Oleg growled loudly, full of fury. Mr Bakabella would pay in blood for his thieving and lies. He wanted victories and gold, Oleg wanted these things too. Of course he did, they would not be taken from him, never again. And he wanted the crowds to keep singing his name, pushing him onwards to more wins. Why should he not want all these things? He was Oleg the Usurper, he had felled great creatures, he had survived furious storms and had triumphed over many opponents. He had the Hoard and the crowds with him; this was truly a great way to battle. He would not be denied. Neither of them would be.

 

“You are here, you lead,” he told Icarus. “So you will triumph.”

 

Icarus stared at Oleg, as though he somehow did not understand, but then just slowly nodded. Good. What was there not to understand? He did not get up or move away. Perhaps his thoughts were still heavy but they did not bow him. It was why he triumphed. Oleg grinned, showing all his teeth, and looked out across the water. He could hear cheers. Perhaps he would catch some fish when he sailed, that too would be a victory to savour.

 

_-the end_


End file.
